When Marty Has to Make Choices Red This Time (2)

RedThongColourSBW and I had agreed that I will choose her thong for the day.  Here is the first post about that as a refresher .

What I’m about to describe happened during the third week of last December.

I knew she was heading out that night to a small, intimate seasonal gathering. So the red thong was clearly what she would wear.

“Which should I wear today, Marty?” she asked in the early afternoon.

“You will be wearing the red tonight, Baby. No question. Seasonal colors and all that. You’ll be so sexy in that little black dress, and the red will let your intimate parts celebrate too.”

“Show me your ass please,” I instruct.

I watch her step into her thong. As she bends forward her beautiful, rounded ass faces me. The curvature is just so perfect. Yes, I said curvature. Identical to the Earth’s from space. Hauntingly beautiful in my humble opinion. How much do I crave that? You have no idea. Pussy lips visible between her firm muscular thighs. Ever so slowly she draws the red band up along those long sexy legs, wending its way to meet this curvature’s Great Rift Valley. I watch longingly as the red ribbon of fabric disappears. Everything snugly fitting.

A final tug and snap. As SBW does a quarter turn, she shimmies her ass in a so, so subtle fashion. I have never met a woman who combines these two unique facets in such an incredible way … sensuality … and innocence. She does know she is a very sexy woman … heck, I remind her several times a day … yet she doesn’t fathom the massive impact that sensuousness has on me.

Yes Marty, today’s choice was well done. You should celebrate!


She Strips The Boundaries Away … The Black Bra

I certainly don’t take it for granted. How could I when I’m not even aware it may be happening? The woman just likes to please. As in ME, moi, mich. And I couldn’t be happier.

Take the other day for instance. Late in the morning I received this from her …

“I masturbated this morning thinking about you. You made me cum hard.”

Oh, I really like that,” I answered. “What were you thinking?”

“About our first time.”

“Mmmmm,” I answered.

“Our first kiss. Then you made me strip. And kneel.”

She continued “Then, of course, I pictured my favorite. Me sitting on your face. Arms tied with your belt.”

I smiled. Then frowned because I had to rush off to an appointment.

“Later!” I typed.

We were back on texting in the afternoon about several different things. Some fairly mundane. Several items less so.

I remember asking her “Did you get yourself off again?”

“No. You?”

“No, but I’m horny.” I might have mentioned that fact earlier in the day, too. “Send me a pic, please.”

“Of what?”

“You,” I said.

“My face?” she queried.

“Face. Or ass. Or tits.”

60 seconds later in came a pic of her beautiful … smiling face.  I was thrilled.

“Gorgeous,” I replied.

She has pushed my boundaries. Normally you might expect I would be disappointed by only a picture of her smile. But not at all. She has got me just where she wants me. Has me being more patient even. I puttered around for a few minutes on various things before maybe “you know what ing”.

17 minutes after that … a video.

“How’s that?” she asked.

I watched my screen transfixed. There she stood smiling.Tall, lean, in a black sweatshirt and dark running shorts. She ran her hands through her soft mane. Cross armed, she slowly lifted off her top. Swelling breasts were barely contained in an alluring black bra. I intently watch her taut stomach muscles flex, then relax.

I’m not relaxed at all. Far from hit. Eyes burned to the screen, right hand dipping into jeans.

A dip of her head coupled with her ravishing smile, then thumbs into shorts.She teases me as the shorts get lowered, momentarily half off, then slipped completely down. A quarter turn to deftly flash the side of a tight ass cheek. I’m getting very hard.

Then a three-quarter turn back toward the camera. My eye catches her trimmed pussy patch of bush, so delicately balanced between her strong, firm athletic legs.  My right hand begins to stroke. My gaze moves up from her pussy, past her taut abdomen, to lust longingly at that black bra.  And the D-cup  treasures it supports.

Her delicate hands slowly unclasp the black supporting garment. She smiles and teases with her slow, deliberate movement. My hand movements accelerate.

Her hands move up to the top of the cup, gently following the edge, then along the length of the bra straps, pulling them part way down. Next she moves to the covering black cups. Slowly they are lowered, briefly caressing her nipples that are obviously now hard..

Her tits dare me to stare, her nipples pointing upward. The beautiful black bra, now hanging useless in her left hand is carelessly tossed. She stands but for a brief mini second, fully displayed before me. Proud. Mine. Her boundaries now expanded.

I finish what I’m doing.




When Marty Has to Make Choices (1)

A pic of some thong choice Dec 21_15Her simple, classic beauty sucks every breath of air from my lungs each time my eyes set focus on her. And trust me on this, my eyes and my total being are focused when I see her.

We have agreed I will select the thong she is to wear each day.  She lays out the choices for me. Blue, navy, red, charcoal, and the purple. This day I select the purple as she has two important functions to attend and I want her to feel confident that she is dressed regally right down to her flawless bare skin. It wasn’t a tough choice for me.

And I watch as she puts it on. Her grey sweatshirt drops to cover her hardening nipples, and exposes just the bottom half of her tits, before falling to cover them all. But I zero in on her tan line and remind her how much I adore the small trimmed patch to her pussy.

“I love making you happy,” she says.

“With all my perversions about you?” I smile.

“Especially with those,” she winks. “You know how much it turns me on knowing I’m turning you on.”

“Noted,” I respond.

As she slowly pulls the purple piece up above her knees I marvel at the smoothness of her tummy. The thong up, she turns for me so I can appreciate the perfect turn of her ass. Gently rounded, yet firm from every angle. The line of her crack gives me shivers.  No wonder every male she passes stares intently as she slips by them, seemingly not to notice, but I know full well she tracks every man’s eye movement on her.

Cheeky_Bum_Purple_Rain_front_dd39f726-aac3-4a9c-8351-cd73ec05a528_1024x1024[1]Yes, purple was a good choice today. Marty can pick ’em.


A Bridge in the Cosmos

the-real-bridge-yours[1]I don’t know.

Sometimes I really know. You know?

But sometimes I don’t. Right now I really don’t. I mean I can feel it. Yes I can. But do I truly know? No, I don’t think I do.

Cosmos. The greatest unknown. I’ve always loved that word. We call our humans in space astronauts. The Soviets called theirs cosmonauts. Don’t you think those damn Ruskies captured the breadth and the emptiness and the loneliness and the breath taking wonder beyond this little blue orb contained in the English language word cosmos so much better than our bureaucrats in Houston and Washington did? I mean, astro vs the cosmos. C’mon … there really is no comparison.

But I’m digressing. But maybe not. The cosmos is so unknown, don’t you know? And did I mention, I don’t really know.

Because there’s this bridge. I’m building. Well, it’s kind of built. Partially. A little rickety right now to be honest. In my mind it’s pretty old and tentative. And I feel it’s out there in the cosmos. Nothing fixed at either end. Because when I get it almost attached at her end, before I know it, it’s drifting again.

All this time she thought I was a wedge. Coming between the important things in her world and us. I don’t know (there’s that thought again) how many times I’ve tried to explain it to her. But as of yet, she’s not a believer. I thought it was getting through that gorgeous noggin of hers when I said it was a bridge, and not a wedge. That made her consider.

Which was progress.  But today the bridge is very much adrift.

So I don’t know.

There’s a theme here.

One thing I do know.

I don’t like I don’t know.


Midweek Fantasizing – The Portrait

f69bb7a5004e07fb8630c02b4eb07c0aShe was at the coffee shop. Catching up on some writing. One of those incredible beauties, don’t you know. Shoulder length blonde hair, slightly tussled. Maybe she had come from a workout because she was wearing exercise clothes that hid her figure. But didn’t really, because they actually revealed a lot. That her body was likely as close to perfection as you could imagine. She could have been in her mid 30s, but looked younger. Beauties have a way about them, they always look younger than they are.  She was probably a stay at home mom, hence the afternoon Starbucks break on the way home.

She frowned into her laptop as she reread something she had written.  Absently she looked away from her screen, to the right. He was staring at her, but looked down when she saw him. He was sort of cute, in a nondescript way.  Dressed casually in jeans. Short brown hair. Maybe about her age.

She went back to what she was doing. Though after a minute or so she couldn’t help but look out of the corner of her eye. He was definitely staring.

She pulled out her phone. She texted her lover

“I’m in Starbucks and there’s a guy staring at me”

“That’s not unusual.” her lover texted back. “You’re a stunning woman.”

“I think he’s drawing a picture of me … ”

“Cool!” the lover wrote back.

After several seconds the lover wrote, “I have an idea for you. This is what you’ll do.”

After she read his next text the woman wrote him, “You’re terrible. No wonder I love you. I’ll do it.”

She pushed her chair back and got up. The young man watched her in anticipation as she walked over to his table. He shuffled his papers away.

“You’re drawing me, aren’t you?” she asked, looking down at him unemotionally with her big grey-blue eyes.

“Yes … yes … I … am”, he stammered.

“Well I want you to know something.”

” … yes?” he whispered.

“My lover told me to tell you I am his very hot submissive. You think I’m hot don’t you?”

“Yes … I do.” he managed to get out.

“And he’s older.  A lot older. But oh sooo … ” her voice trailed off as she was momentarily lost in thought.

“And when I wake up in the morning the first thing I think of is sucking his beautiful cock.”

The artist’s eyes opened wide, and his face flushed.

“My Dom just thought you should know. It might better infuse your art. He thought the sketch would be so much more intimate if you better understood your model.”

The artist smiled wanly, and nodded as he looked up at her above him. He didn’t say anything.

She turned and walked back to her laptop. Started writing again. Smiling secretly. She was a good girl.




Sometimes I think of a Favorite Movie

We all have favorite movies. Sure, I do too.

I’m a fan of a great Western. Which means I adore the Sergio Leone spaghetti Westerns  starring my boy Clint. My fave of the trilogy (A Fistful of Dollars, For A few Dollars More, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly) is The G, The B and The U. Plot, characters, suspense, action scenes, those wide panoramas mixed with the tension-filled closeups make for superb entertainment.

But there’s an additional, special reason why I have a unique fondness for The G, The B and The U.  You see it goes back to my time with Rachel.

One winter’s evening we decided to stay “in” at her apartment mid-town. A good movie on TV with decadent snacks seemed like the perfect way to spend a Saturday night. Not having a TV in her bedroom, Rachel suggested we lie on her pull out couch and get cozy for the flick. Done, I say!

After opening up the couch, we quickly got naked and under the covers as the movie began. Not long into it, Rachel, lying in my arms, looked up at me with her sleepy brown eyes.

“You just watch the movie. Don’t pay attention to what I’m doing. I’m just gonna play and have some fun,” she declared.

“Umm, ok” I answered.

Without a further word she wiggled down and slipped my still soft cock into her mouth. She stroked. She licked. She looked up at me smiling. I was having trouble concentrating on Eli Wallach at the end of a rope. Rachel smiled some more as she could feel the results between her lips from her ministrations. I rapidly got hard.

“Mmmm I just love feeling you get hard in my mouth,” she cooed.

“Uh-huh” I gasped.

Not long after I exploded in her mouth. Rachel had an uncanny way of knowing how to get me to cum from her blow jobs in a matter of minutes.

She’d do it 3 more times before the movie credits rolled.

Thinking about my favorite films reminds me of so many good things.

I think I’m going to have to tell you more about Rachel.



The Ski Break … Part (4) – The Naughty Ride Home

The recent Marty-replay I did with a story about Marcie stirred some old memories. It brought another story to mind.  Part (1) is here and part (2) can be found here and part (3) is right here

But the week came to an end, and Friday night was our last night at the ski resort. Marcie was to drive home with me, and that was a very special trip, which is coming up …

Marcie and I wildly frolicked that night like there was no tomorrow. Except that tomorrow was a lot of fun, too. We had breakfast, and then checked out of the hotel about 11am, ready for the long drive ahead.


Marcie was extremely tired (remember she didn’t get those late afternoon naps like I did) so in less than an hour she was dozing off beside me. The drive was pleasant, and since the weather was clear I was quite happy driving. The snow sparkled brightly off the evergreens along the 2-lane highway we had to take before reaching the freeway that would take us home. I even spotted some deer foraging in the distance.

After about an hour or so, Marcie roused from her drowsiness and sat up. For the next hour we chatted about what a fun week we had had and how it had been such a good idea.  Just then a sign for an upcoming rest stop appeared, and I had a thought.

“Stop for a coffee?” I asked.

“Sure,” Marcie said with a twinkle in her eye. I had a hunch she was reading my mind.

I pulled off the exit ramp and into the rest center, but parked the car way off to the back of the parking area, far away from any other cars and trucks. At this time of year, it was certainly not crowded. Given the cold temperature, I left the engine running. I undid our safety belts and then begin to kiss her softly.

Marcie’s hand moved for my crotch. After a quick feel of my bulge, she deftly unbuckled my belt, released the button, then unzipped the fly.  I eased down my jeans and boxers about a foot to give her easy access to what she wanted. She sucked me slowly, but took in the full length right from the beginning. I let out a huge sigh. Marcie kept the pace easy but went about her task methodically. She looked at me with the glint in her eye of a true vixen. Given all the heavy breathing, it was but a minute before the windows of my car were misted over, hiding the naughtiness going on inside, in case anyone happened to wander by.

Marcie continued her worship of my manness. Occasionally she reached over to tenderly squeeze my balls. I was quickly losing control … my hips suddenly rose and I cried out as I released strongly into Marcie’s mouth.  She released me for a second, smiled up at me, then began to lick me clean. Talk about having someone in the palm of your hand (and mouth).

I softened quickly and Marcie chuckled.

“My work is done here.” she laughed.”I’ll go get us those coffees and sandwiches while you recuperate.”

And she did. And I did.

Finished our caffeine and sandwiches we headed out again, westward home. It wasn’t that long until the sun began to lower in the sky. In winter in northern climes it does that, you know.  Soon enough twilight arrived and then the dusk surrounded us. It was about 45 minutes since I had come in Marcie’s mouth and my need to play with her was returning.

“Take off your jeans,” I said. “Underwear, too”.

Marcie turned her head to look at me for a second.

“Ok” she answered.

I glanced back and forth from the road to the strip show that was happening beside me. I chuckled as I saw her wriggle out of her pants and panties.

“Nice! Good girl,” I said as I admired her landing strip. “Now begin playing with yourself.”

And she did. For the next while her fingers were busy. Every so often I would reach across and use my fingers, too, as best I could, then lick my dripping digits, all while keeping us out of the ditch at high speed in the early evening. Marcie had several orgasms on that highway and it was an enjoyable thing to behold, I can tell you.

As the evening wore on, I kept Marcie in her nakedness. It was just fun to have. Then wouldn’t you know it as we neared the 2/3 point of our journey, up popped a sign for an upcoming rest center.

We looked at each other and called out in laughing unison “Coffee time!”

Well, dear reader, I don’t think I have to spell out what happened next in the darkness of that car. Marty’s essential body parts jumped to life again.

But I let Marcie put her jeans back on to go get the coffees while I gassed up the car. I’m a true gentleman after all.

And so ended my skiing trip with Marcie. A week not to be forgotten. I may never ski like that again.

I was going to call this post “The Naked Ride Home” because I like the title of the song so much, but the nakedness was only partial and only for part of the ride home. But I think you get my drift …

The Ski Break … Part (3)

The recent Marty-replay I did with a story about Marcie stirred some old memories. It brought another story to mind.  Part (1) is here and part (2) can be found here

And I thought to myself this was a very good start to an exciting upcoming week.

Marcie and I then slept for several hours. but soon enough it was time for another round. I woke up to feeling her sucking my cock which had become hard, unbeknownst to me. I really can’t remember the details, but I am certain we had a wild session before drifting off, once again to sleep. Then a few hours later I remember a lusty go which included my cock sliding into Marcie’s very firm, tennis-trained ass. A little clean up, then more sleep.

The prearranged wake-up call at 6:30 came soon enough. There was just enough time for her to go down on me again before she had to scamper away and go to her room to get ready to meet her work colleagues for breakfast and begin another conference day at the hotel.

I stayed in bed a few more minutes, but I, too, needed to get going. I had a full day of hard downhill skiing ahead of me. Though very cold, it was bright and glorious for a day on the slopes.

After a quick shower and shave I hurried downstairs to have breakfast in the dining room. There Marcie was seated with a female work mate. I was given a small table 3 rows over and a couple of tables back. As I perused the morning paper, I espied Marcie’s table mate eyeing me, but I really didn’t think much of it at the time.

Marcie’s group headed out to do their thing and I finished up my breakfast shortly thereafter. Then it was out to the slopes for a hard day!

Even though I was in very good shape, my skiing legs weren’t there yet. So around 3:30 I called it a day. Besides, a nice hot shower and a few hours of nap time would prepare me well for the upcoming night time play with Marcie. I was hoping to keep her busy the whole night.  Marcie’s group, I knew, would be out for dinner elsewhere, so I had lots of time for a good nap and an easy, casual dinner.

At about 9pm she called me from her room and then headed over to mine. As she came in, she was laughing. After inquiring about each other’s day, she said,

“Do you remember breakfast this morning?”

“Yes, more or less.” I answered. “Why?”

“Well Angela thought you were super cute. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of you.”

“Did you tell her who I was?”

“No, of course not! Spouses and boyfriends aren’t allowed, you know that.”

“Oh,” I said. “You just kept mum on everything?”

“Yes!” Marcie replied. “It was so much fun listening to her go on. She said ‘ What’s a man like that doing alone, single here at this hotel? I wonder what he does?’ I just smiled and said ‘I have no idea.’ You intrigue her very much, Marty.”

“Hmm, this could be a good game.” I replied with a grin.

And with that, the nightly romp began. I won’t bore you any more with the details, because it was just more of the same. With shower sex, and pressed against the window sex, and perched on the room’s desk sex, and …

But it was great fun, because I had had my nap, and was not going to let her sleep much. That’s how every night was filled … and every opening often … right through the week. Poor Marcie could barely keep awake during her business sessions. And every morning at breakfast I “seemed” to be somebody else to Marcie’s colleague Angela. It was so much fun posing as a mystery man for her.

But the week came to an end, and Friday night was our last night at the ski resort. Marcie was to drive home with me, and that was a very special trip, which is coming up …




The Ski Break … Part (2)

The recent Marty-replay I did with a story about Marcie stirred some old memories. It brought another story to mind.  Part (1) is here

I put my arms around her slim, taut body, pressing my already full erection into her and kissed her deeply.

Let the fun begin I thought.

I began unbuttoning Marcie’s blouse. Slowly, one-but-ton-at-a-time-but-with-out-any-kind-of-rush-very-de-lib-er-ate-ly.  As I did this, she rested her head on my shoulder. I could smell the beer on her breath and knew she was a little tipsy.

After I pulled off her blouse, I slowly reached across her back and unclasped her bra. It fell to the floor. I knew she was expecting me to feel her tits, but I wasn’t ready for that just yet.

“Take off your skirt and panties” I said. “Now please.”

She stepped back and slithered out of her remaining garments and she watched me watch her. As she stood there in front of me patiently waiting, she could tell I approved.

“Good girl. Now, up on the bed on all fours.”

Slowly without a word, Marcie walked over to the bed and assumed the position. I followed. I started by Iightly running my fingers the length of her back, from her neck down to and including her ass crack. For a few seconds I was mesmerized by the light tawny freckles dotting her skin.

She shivered to my touch. Marcie always loved the way I touched her. I planted a soft kiss on the small of her back. Standing at the side of the bed, from between her legs I gently caressed her pussy. She was sopping wet. I stroked along her slit and heard her quiet moans as I continued.

“You’re going to make me very happy tonight, Darling” I said.

“I know,” she replied. “I can feel it. I want to. I really want to. God I want you.”

Oh Marcie! She was always so horny! What was I to do with her?

I slowly fucked her pussy with two and then three fingers while I continued to gently run the fingers of my other hand along her back. Then up and down, inside and out of her leg.  She put her head down between her arms and softly mewled to the pleasure she was feeling.

“Marty … Please!”. She was starting to beg.

As I continued to finger fuck her, my other hand pinched one nipple, then the other. Marcie grunted through clenched teeth.

But now teasing-time was done. My cock was pulsing with need. With both hands I grabbed Marcie’s hips and moved her to the edge of the bed.

“Don’t move!”

I pulled off my shirt, kicked off my slips-ons and socks, pulled down my jeans and underwear. Her head still between her forearms, she didn’t budge. Standing behind her, with one hand I pushed her further down into the bed, the other guided my cock oh so slowly into her waiting sex. Marcie’s head jutted up, and her body arched to my entrance. Slowly, in, out, slowly, slowly, ever deeper, out, in, slowly even deeper, then out, then in, out, then in all the way.

Marcie’s breathing was heavier now. She was gasping and grunting, moving her hips to the rhythm of my thrusts.  She arched again and began to cry out. I grabbed her hair with one hand and snapped her head back as she came hard. Three, four, five more hard thrusts and she came again. I didn’t let up and oh so soon she cried out yet again.

By now my own orgasm was close and I was pulling her hips into me with force. As I came I collapsed on her back, but I tried with all my might to keep pumping … as long as I could. Eventually I stopped and just put my arms around her torso and held her as we tried to catch our breath.

Was it only a minute when I pulled out, stood beside the bed on shakey legs and turned her face toward me?

“Lick me clean” I said.

As Marcie sucked my softening cock I looked down at her and said “We’ll sleep for a bit now. I’ve had a long drive and you’ve had a full day.”

And I thought to myself this was a very good start to an exciting  upcoming week.




Sometimes I Get Embarrassed … When Girls Talk

I have decided to revisit certain posts from time to time. Call them a Marty-Replay.  Posts I like. Or I’m happy with how they were written and catch the moment just right. Or are particularly relevant even now. But mostly that I like. Here’s the 2nd.  I’m sure most of you are not familiar with Marcie. If you are curious, here is some background.

Here    and   here

It was like a girls night out. Except the boys tagged along. Three couples sitting around the pool on a warm evening. Marcie and I were on a winter break and had booked a week at a Mexican beach resort. During the evening meal of our second day there we had started to chum around with two other couples around our age.

After dinner we adjourned to a patio near the pool for drinks and conversation. For some reason the three women sat beside each other in patio chairs, while the men were together opposite. As the cheap Mexican red wine flowed, the inhibitions began disappearing like a rapidly outgoing Caribbean  tide.

The women were all extremely attractive. There was the tall Chicago blonde with below shoulder length Farah curls and the 38Ds. Then there was Virgina beauty, short with long raven hair complementing her cute button nose, tight little ass, and 34Cs. The men didn’t really have much to say. We were more interested in listening, I guess. Wine induced, the girls’ conversation became very sexual, very quickly.

It wasn’t long before Marcie got into describing the evening we arrived. How a few Mexican beers had led to a walk on the beach as darkness was setting in. How in the blackness of the night, the softness of the zephyr off the sea, and the effects of the beer we felt totally alone. How I sat on the solitary beach chair, beer can in hand facing the sea, and how Marcie knelt and took my cock deep in her mouth. How she slurped noisily  How after several minutes of that she grabbed my hand and I pushed her to the sand on all fours and took her roughly from behind. How as I pulled her hair and she grunted while climaxing a group of people could be heard strolling nearby. How we couldn’t have cared less.

Chicago eyed me with a sly smile. Virginia Brunette’s eyes opened wider. I was on the hot seat and I could feel my face flushing a bit. Good thing it was early evening and the light wasn’t so good.

There was more wine and more girl talk. Lots more. And it started to get dirtier. Chicago blonde explained how in order for her husband to get fucked at all, he had to perform cunnilingus just right on her, and for the length of time and number of orgasms she felt appropriate that night. She made it quite clear who was the boss, and who gave the sexual directions

I flashed her my “that’s not how it would be with me Hottie” look with my deep blue eyes. And she nodded back in agreement. I looked over at her husband and even in the dimming light I could see him silently slouching lower in his chair.

Virginia Brunette, not to be out done, filled everyone in on how she took care of her husband. Apparently she had a coterie of 4 or 5 men. Periodically one would be invited to their house in the Washington suburbs for the evening, for dinner and drinks with her and her husband. Which would be followed by raunchy sex with Virginia Brunette. In the bedroom with the lights on. While husband stood in the bedroom doorway to watch and listen. At the appropriate command, he would be allowed to undress. And should she feel generous, she would give him permission to stroke himself while he watched his beloved wife in the throes of outrageously noisy sex with the visitor. Then after her upteenth orgasm, if she was feeling really generous, she would go to the doorway and finish him off with a hand job.

I had always wondered what those Beltway civil servants did with their free evening time.

Marcie was loving it. The other men, not so much. Marcie had this laugh, that became raunchier the drunker she became. She was very drunk now, and the laugh was an outright cackle. Given the spirit of the conversation, and fearing the worst from her mouth, I suggested it was time for us to call it an evening. I wasn’t really interested in having my personal modesty tested any more than it had been. But she wasn’t interested in leaving.

“You know Marty has just the best cock I have ever had” she blurted out. My heart sank.

“It is such a good length, and nice and wide. And oh, does he know how to use it on me!”

“Marcie! Enough!” I could feel my whole you don’t-really-know-me, I’m-so-respectable world becoming a distant memory if I didn’t get her to quit soon. But I feared she was just getting started.

“But what is really amazing about Marty is how incredibly hard he gets! Like hot, hot rock! Yes, that’s it, hard as rock.  With super big and hard veins. I have never had a cock in all my parts that is so hard!’

Chicago Blonde raised an eyebrow in my direction. “Really, Marty?” she purred. I knew I was squirming noticeably even in this light. Could they see my sweaty brow? I’m pretty private, and the discomfort I was beginning to experience was, for me, stomach turning.

Virginia Brunette eagerly slid forward in her chair. “How often do you get to Washington, Marty?”

Damn this was embarrassing. Normally I would love the attention these two beautiful women were directing my way. But not like this! It wasn’t me doing the selling. I wasn’t in control at all. And I couldn’t handle it.

“Marcie, we’re leaving now!” I commanded

“I’m going to finish my drink. And my story!” she retorted

Uh-oh. This was not good. Though usually very compliant, Marcie had a stubborn streak at times, and I didn’t want to test it. I wasn’t going to win if I did. That was certain.

“Well I’m going back to the room,” I huffed. It was a gamble on my part. I was certain Marcie was terribly horny, but she was also enjoying her girl time. But I couldn’t handle the spotlight, I knew that for sure. At worst, I figured she’d be along in 2-3 minutes.

I was right, of course, it was under 3 minutes when she joined me in the room. I have no idea what else she confided in the group. And I didn’t ask. But she got one helluva spanking that night.